


Rotation

by SherlockWolf



Series: SherlockWolf's Alternate S13 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s13e15 A Most Holy Man, Gen, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Sam knows what's up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 00:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Sam knows something has changed. He's not sure what to pin it on until Dean won't put down his phone.





	Rotation

**Author's Note:**

> I don't generally write Sam's POV, so I apologize in advance if this one is light on the insight. I'd love any and all pointers for writing from Sam, so if you have any throw 'em at me.
> 
> 13x15 threw me a freakin' curve ball by kicking Cas out of the episode. I debated rewriting the episode for the sake of my alternate canon, but decided to stick with what I was given (I may write a separate fic where I put Cas in the episode).  
> I want to play along with the show itself, and the subtleties it gives us. Notice my dialogue, then imagine it as a script for the actual show. The show always leaves things in its subtext, and the raw dialogue I write (at least for this AU) aims for that.
> 
> As always, tell me if there are any grammar/spelling/weird errors! Thanks for reading! <3

    The atmosphere in the bunker had changed. Sam sat in the kitchen eating granola, feeling like he’d missed something last night while he was holed up in his room researching _the most Holy man_. Dean came into the kitchen half an hour or so after Sam, hair pristine as always. Sam was jealous that his brother woke up with his hair perfectly fluffed, but then again, Dean’s hair was an inch long at most. He didn’t even need a hairbrush.

    “Mornin’, bitch.” His brother greeted.

    “’Sup, jerk.” Sam replied, turning around to begin to tell Dean what he’d found.

    He could tell Dean was only half listening, but Dean half-listened to most of the cases they went on, so Sam didn’t suspect anything.

    Then Cas walked in, and Sam noticed a difference immediately. The air felt thick with something Sam couldn’t name but had sensed around Cas before.

    “Hey, Cas.” Sam greeted him, eager to tell the angel what he’d found and put the discomfort of the day before in the past.

    He didn’t get the chance, though, because Dean muttered a curse and jumped away from the stove where he’d been frying eggs.

    “Are you alright?” Cas asked, rushing to Dean’s side.

    “Yeah, uh, touched the pan.”

    Sam rolled his eyes at the pair. If _he_ had fussed over Dean, his brother would’ve hit him with the spatula. Not that that was new information.

    “I came to tell you both that I’ve located the Tree of Life. It’s in Syria, so I’ll go—.” Cas began, but Dean cut him off with an exasperated sigh.

    “Of course it is.”

    There was a tense moment while his brother and their friend exchanged a look, then Cas turned his attention to Sam and, changing the subject, said,

    “Did you have any luck?”

    Sam assumed Cas was referring to his night of research.

    “Uh, yeah. Dean and I can get the blood of the most Holy man. It should be in the states.”

    “Okay, good. I’ll be back soon.” Cas said, then with one last glance at Dean, strode from the room.

    The energy Cas brought into the room evaporated, but the atmosphere in the kitchen still felt different. Sam wondered for a moment, then swore he could hear the gears turning in his brother’s head, and decided that Dean was the cause. Sam turned around and settled back into the bench to finish his breakfast. A few seconds passed, then Dean rushed passed him, after Cas. Apparently the angel hadn’t gotten to the door, because he heard Dean shout for him to wait.

    Then Sam heard,

    “Cas, you get one day.”

    “Dean, I’ll be fine.”

    “I don’t want...”

    “I know. I’ll be careful.”

    The bunker door creaked open and closed. Dean came back into the kitchen, finished making his breakfast, and sat across from Sam. His face was poised, hiding the distress he was under. Sam felt the same way, though about a different person.

    He couldn’t think about Mary now. They had a mission, and Sam needed to be at the top of his game.      

    “So, um. The blood of the holy man is in Chicago, I think.”

    “Awesome. Let’s hit the road.”

    “We don’t have to—.” Sam began to protest.

    He wasn’t ready to go anywhere yet. He still needed to get in contact with the people who might have the blood, pack his bags, and make sure the stuff really was in Chicago.

    “Yeah, we do.” Dean snapped, then shoved his food in his mouth to prevent Sam from doing more than rolling his eyes and glaring at his stubborn older brother.

~

    Dean wouldn’t put down his phone. Sam heard it buzz in his pocket while they were talking to the creepy lady who made Sam’s skin crawl. Dean scrolled through something while they were waiting to talk to the rich guy who was supposed to have the blood. Dean made a move to grab it while they were waiting to meet the _mob boss_ of all things.

    So, when Dean picked up his phone on the way home from dropping the priest off at the airport, Sam very nearly smacked the thing from his hand.

    “Who’ve you been texting?”

    “What?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam _rather than the road_.

    “Dude, you’re _driving!_ ” Sam yelled, to which his stubborn idiot brother finally put down the phone.

    “I’m just checkin’ on Cas.” Dean grumbled.

    “Cas is fine. You heard him.”

    “I know!” Dean snapped defensively, pouting at the road.

    “What is with you two, anyway?” Sam asked, recalling the tension in the kitchen yesterday morning.

    “What are you talkin’ about?” Dean asked in that voice that meant he knew exactly what Sam was talking about.

    Sam sighed and rubbed at his forehead. His brother was ridiculous.

    “You guys were just being…weird yesterday, before he left.”

    Dean glared at the road for a few moments before saying,

    “I…I dunno, Sam. I just don’t want…”

    There went Dean with his failed emotional communication. If Sam hadn’t been living with his brother for the last decade—on and off, but still—he wouldn’t have had the patience for it. But Sam knew exactly what Dean didn’t want. Sam didn’t want Cas to die again, either. Cas was family, but more than that, Sam wasn’t sure Dean would survive losing Cas again. His brother had completely lost himself in grief over the angel, which was something Sam had only ever seen him do for himself—and not nearly to that extreme. Dean never gave up when it came to Sam. Never. But with Cas, his brother was ready to _die_. Call it quits. Even though Billie had told them both that they weren’t going to Heaven anymore. That suicidal side of Dean was something Sam had known was present, but had never seen. Sam knew for it to come out at the loss of Cas was significant.

    “I know.” Was all Sam could think of to say, to save his brother from struggling through a hard conversation neither of them were really ready for.

    Not when Mom was still missing, with Jack.

    God, Sam hoped Jack had found her.

    It took him a minute to realize that Cas had said the same thing to Dean before he left. Which meant that Dean had finally talked to Cas about what had happened. Or maybe his idiot brother had finally told the angel something more chronic, more painful that he’d been dealing with since Cas walked into their life.

    Sam hoped it was both.


End file.
